Took Myself Hostage and Got SWAT Called on Me
The day started off to great start, more of the terror, bewilderment, frustration and despair that I'd become accustomed to. I wrestled back into conscience after a long blur of a night. My mind slowly managed to create a thought — “What the hell happened last night? TOTAL BLACKOUT, the best kind to have if you’re a drunk like me. Blackouts always gave me a certain sense of security, as if I could not be responsible for the previous night’s damage. If I did not remember a particular incident it could be explained and rationalized. I’m just a drunk junkie, what did you expect to happen. Oh well, it doesn’t matter.
My survey of the warzone usually included me finding a fresh fist hole in the wall. Who keeps punching hole in the walls, son of a b*&##@, that sucks! I do fuzzily recall I left to re-up on some goodies and when I returned “she” was not home. She always had a knack for burning off with someone, anyone really. If you had money or dope, “she” was your girl – I mean your girl, good luck.
There’s that book I read. It’s ominous warning, “Then he will know loneliness such as few do”. Just the idea of being alone would absolutely produce panic and fear, along with the anger of thinking – why is “she” doing this to me? Where is “she?" Who is “she” with?
I run to my bedroom to check my wallet – money gone. I dig into the drawer in my bedside table finding my secret stash – gone! Oh my GOD! Not again, damn it! What am I gonna do?
As twisted as I am, my thoughts are only filled with perverted and sick carnal imaginations of her and who “she” is with. The pressure of my Nero-sickness builds and boils inside my skull. I need a hit. I scurry to my closet and check every pocket of every piece of clothing I have piled onto the floor. There has got to be something in here that I left.
Frenzied and in full flight I tear in the pants, shirts, coat, looking for that crumb, which I’m convinced exists.
Recently I search, and seek the hidden treasure. Then I remember that I stashed some stuff under the couch in the living room, YEAH BABY! Thank you Jesus.
Under the couch was a plate and it was glistening with the wonderful magic dust! Glory! I had passed out the previous night without depleting my supply. It’s a miracle. Time to get busy.
Over to the stereo, got to some Pink Floyd. Crank it up, so that clatter in my head can be stilled. I can then perform the needed operation with the skill required to hit the mark. Like a little crazy mouse running around insanely in a cage, I prepare my potion and fire it up with all cylinders blasting.
For that brief moment, all is absolutely grand. Peace, comfort, and joy. as if Christmas carols are going off in my head. The pressure cooker releases the steam. AHH... Oblivion is just around the corner. One more just to make sure.
It wasn’t that bad last night. I’m feeling pretty damn good, except for having to get sick, things are looking up. But looking down onto the serving of crystal magic I notice the mountain is just a small bump!!! Oops.
“THE LUNATIC IN IN MY HEAD” blows from my stereo, which is more like a pro sound system. I crank it up to full freak level, the decibels cause my eyes to flutter with their sockets. BBBBBZZZZZZZZ
The ritual has begun. Frantic molecules flooding my grey matter, Mr. Hyde is back, taking control of my body – stripping me naked and using me like a ragdoll, raping me with my own demented fantasies. A good shot of powder is always twinned up with my sex drive. I love driving fast and furious. A Ferrari!
The monster of my addiction is in full force, rapidly coursing through me with no bounds to hold it back. Next, I have thoughts of the liquid nourishment that I must have. A supply of 2-18 packs of Busch, and a bottle of my favorite cough medicine, Jagermeister, delightful.
Heavenly bliss – the perfect day!
I’m able to put my clothes back on, get in the Lincoln, and make down to the booze parlor. I put my requisition on credit, call the snowman and make my run to re-up-up again. My ride seemed to have it’s own intelligence that was programed to make the trips to my dealers house and return me back safely to the bat cave.
The cap of the bottle quickly got twisted releasing the liquid gold of my soul. Swig, gulp, gulp, again, sip, not too much. I got the rest of the day to go!
The memories of the next few hours became muddied and sporadic, the oncoming blackout was taking hold. Vaguely, the visions of my small cabin flashed and faded into my sight, and I had recollections of blood running down my arms and neck. A cold shower was taken to offset the overheated furnace cooking my innards.
Dangers of Cocaine Induced Psychosis – Study of Addictions
Unfortunately, when the user experiences cocaine psychosis, there are a number of dangers that can arise. An individual who is experiencing a state of psychosis doesn’t understand what is real and what is not and therefore may make irrational decisions regarding their own lives or the lives of others. Cocaine psychosis can lead to murder, injury, violent behavior, accident or other serious consequences. It is very common for those who experience cocaine psychosis to hallucinate and think that they see or hear something or someone talking about them or threatening them in some way. Similar to schizophrenia symptoms, cocaine psychosis has a tendency to cause a user to act out towards others due to the hallucinations and paranoia that they are experiencing. Cocaine psychosis can cause serious delirium which can make an individual act bizarre or violent.
I had entered the twilight zone, a place I had familiarity with. Seeing and hearing things were common enough that I could manage them quite well. Hallucinating was not difficult and at times intriguing to encounter. However this time was just different than all those other time that I had ventured into a cocaine/Jager fueled adventure.
I was without companionship and loneliness was crashing in on me. Turns out “she” was down in San Antonio whoring around with her prostitute friend, whose name will never be spoken. The sorrow in my guts with the knowledge of her betrayal to my adoration torn into my heart. I had more moments of reality during the next few hours.
Eventually, the cocaine pipeline ran dry and depleted my resistance to the dark side of which I have dropped into before. A cloak of depression that envelops all thoughts and feelings. Overwhelming me with a vengance of remorse and pity like a black hole, sucking every morsel of sanity away forever, and ever.
More good new from –
Dangers of Cocaine Induced Psychosis – Study of Addiction
Cocaine psychosis can cause serious delirium which can make an individual act bizarre or violent. It is very common for hospitals or treatment staff to require extensive restraint features in order to force an individual who suffers from cocaine psychosis to remain calm and to prevent any risks or dangers to others. Self-destruction is always a serious danger when cocaine psychosis is a problem. The user may try to commit suicide, attempt to hurt himself or attempt to act violently as a means of coping with the delusions, hallucinations or illogical thought process that are occurring within the brain.
The dangers of cocaine psychosis are really rather stringent. Studies have shown that a number of violent crimes, homicides, injuries, accidents and other dangerous situations can all be traced back to the use of excessive amounts of cocaine. When the brain is activated to act in survival mode after excessive cocaine use, there are wide ranges of potential consequences that may occur.
So here I was. totally in the grips of the crazies, delusional to the point of self-destruction. In that book I read all the time, it says – “He will wish for the end."
And that’s me at the end of my path! I have to stop this now!
But in my mind I imagined trying to overdose but every time I used I would have a moment of renewed hope. No – not that.
Lets try this – I tear a extension cord loose from behind the stereo system and fashioned a slip knot noose and tied it around my neck. By this time walking was not an option. Having polishing of th Jager, my condition was that of a cripple. Crawling over to the balcony on my back porch it tied the cord to the handrail. My hands were heavy and my fingers were balloonish.
Anger and despair like a tsunami came shooting into every fiber of my universe. I just have to end it quick! No more pain or torture, I needed peace!
I grabbed a hold of the wooden upright of the railing surrounding the back deck, but was not able to make the climb for the jump. I had no balance left and coordination using my eyes became dizzyingly unfocused. A jumbled blur was all I perceived. The wire noose had tightened and started to close off the flow through my jugular veins. I don’t know much else until I found myself in the middle of the living room, face down to the tile floor. I had pissed my pants and was puddling an inch a ta time to the kitchen. In the kitchen, somehow I was able to grab a steak knife and took the knife and tried to cut the wire loose. It wasn’t working and the swelling around my neck was increasing.The steak knife was now between the wire cord and my neck. It would not cut. It was stuck.
My ability the breath was becoming raspy and it felt as I was inhaling fire. What can I do. I don’t know what to do. Help me someone, HELP. The cellphone I had was in my back pocket and it had time left. The next action I took was, maybe, the most insane thing I have ever done.
I dialed 911
The dispatcher came onto the line. The conversation went something like this.
“911 – What is your emergency”
My reply to her -Help, I don’t know what to do.
The dispatch came back with – “What is your problem Sir?”
This is my response to her inquiry – I am holding myself hostage and I can’t get out!
From that point in time it was about 20 minutes that she kept me on the phone. She asked who I was and I told her. Being that I had an extensive arrest record with the local Sheriff’s Dept. they knew my location.
I stayed on the floor until she said to me the deputies were on the scene and I could hang up with her, so I did. I lay there holding the knife still as it started to cut my swollen neck, when...
BAM. BAM. BAM. The door to my place burst open and the ninja turtles came barreling into the cabin. Well not really Ninjas, but they did look like turtles.
One of the Sheriffs was a hostage negotiator and he was the first person in a very long time to show me concern or worry about my welfare. To this day, I hold a great deal of gratitude for this copper.
Well the conversation turned into a intervention of sorts. The Lieutenant was able to cut the wire from my neck and the EMT’s were brought in after the scene had been secured. I was still reeling from the trauma and was not quite right in the head. Obviously!
He found all of my utensils and chose to dispose of them without a report. He found the 2nd 18 pack of beers still in the fridge. He poured them in the sink one by one. He asked what I wanted to do and I had a choice. One choice was to go to the county jail and the other was I could go to the hospital and have a psychological evaluation. I took the easier softer way and decided on the funny farm. After I was checked out and spun dry by the shrinks, and had medically reestablish reality, then I was transported to the State Hospital in San Antonio.
But that’s another story! Thanks for your time and if you’re having a hard time get a hold of someone like me who had “been there, done that” . The first step to recovery is the realization of how really screwed up thing are.
Thanks again, Chris PHRC.
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